Spira without You
by Elio
Summary: Slight AU: It's about Seymour and Yuna : Will they end up together??
1. Chapter 01

"Spira without You"

Eliot, 020902

Standard Disclaimers Apply

AN:  beware!! SLIGHT ALTERNATE UNIVERSE AND OOC

In this story, I'm more sympathetic to Seymour. ^-^   

Also, there is no love story between Yuna and Tidus at this point.   (Sorry!) 

Well, maybe later, depending on how this story goes.  Or, in fact, maybe she doesn't end up with anyone?

This chapter takes place at Seymour's mansion

If you don't like Seymour don't read.

(Can anyone think of a better title??)

            "Together we can rule the world.  Wouldn't you like that?"

            I didn't know what to say, he was looking at me so intently, and I was so afraid to say no.  I looked away, hoping to yevon that he wouldn't push me for an answer.  But he was there, right in front of me, and he forced my head up with his fingers.  

            "Yuna."

            I wanted to push him away from me, to run away.  I wondered desperately where Tidus and Kimhari were.  I didn't want to be here alone with this man.  I was afraid.  I heard so many horrible things about him, how he killed his mother, how he killed his father.  Though my face was forced towards him, I looked everywhere, just anywhere else, refusing to focus my eyes on him.

            He roughly withdrew his hand, moving away from me in disgust.

            "I see," he said, forcing the words from his mouth, moving to stand by the window.  I did all I could not to cry then and there, holding my arms stiffly by my side, clenching my stomach and my throat.  I was just so afraid.

            "You are just like the rest of them," he said softly then.  I couldn't help but turn towards him, wondering what he was talking about now.  Was he really insane?

            "You know," he began again, in a conversational tone, as though nothing had happened.  "My own mother died because of me."

            I was glad when he didn't hear the cry of fear escape from my throat then.  He had killed his mother!

            "She died," he said again, softly.  I stared at him in confusion, wondering at the tears that now fell from his eyes.  "She died, so that she could become a fayth."

            "A fayth," I repeated in surprise, speaking out before I could stop myself.  Immediately I regretted it when he turned his attention back towards me, advancing towards me slowly.  I backed up every step he came closer, until I felt the traitorous wall behind me.  I closed my eyes involuntarily.  Had I angered him?

            Something soft touched my face, so light, that I wondered if I was imagining it.  Slowly I opened my eyes, afraid to know what was touching my face.  Magic perhaps, burning me?  But I found myself staring into light blue eyes, a watery hue wet from tears.  He touched my face gently with his fingertips, staring intently at me all the while.

            "Why are you so afraid of me?" he whispered, bending forward.

            I felt his lips on mine, gently placing a chaste kiss on my own lips.  Gasping from the sudden movement, I jerked away from him.  

            Sighing, he turned from me again, making his way towards the door.  

            "Very well, then," he said, exhaustion evident in his voice.  "If that's how it is going to be." 

            Opening the door, he stepped out, but not before speaking again.

            "You will stay here until I tell you otherwise."

            The door shut behind him with such finality that I cried out in protest, running to the door.  It was locked! I balled up my shaking fists, and pounded the door, making it shake and rattle.  Scared and alone now, in the dark and dreary room, I slumped slowly to the floor, crying.

            I awoke when I felt the sun on my face.  Moaning slightly, I picked myself from the hard stone floor, rubbing my aching muscles, as my eyes grew accustomed to the light.  Morning, I thought with hope.  There was something about sunlight that gave me courage, and I felt stronger already.  

            As I sat by the window, I thought to the night before.  I remembered how I had been taken away from the others, to talk with Seymour, and what he had told me.  He wanted to marry me, because he believed that we could rule the world together.  I couldn't help laugh aloud at the ridiculous notion, the harshness of the sound ringing in my throat.  

            But I immediately sobered when I thought of my friends, who had been invited along with me to attend Seymour's special banquet.  I didn't want them to worry, but at the same time, I wished to yevon that they would come for me.  

            And as I thought more of Seymour, I grew more and more confused.  So he had not killed his mother, had he?  He had said so himself, that she had somehow given up her own life to become a fayth.  But why? But he killed his own father, then, didn't he? 

            The door opened at that point, and one of the guado came towards me, holding a tray of warm steamy food.

            "Good evening, my lady. I pray that you have slept well," he said gravely, bowing slightly.  

            "Yes, thank you," I said, a little embarrassed that he should show such respect for me, after all I had greatly angered his lord last night.

            "Lord Seymour wishes for you to meet him in the main room as soon as you are ready, if you will, my lady."  He bowed himself out of the room before I could say another word.

            I wondered at that.  I had felt like a prisoner last night, but now I was an honored guest, allowed to leave my room at my own free will.  

            He was seated in a stately chair, by the large window, the sun caressing his blue hair and glowing around his frame in a celestial way.  I blinked in surprise at my thoughts, shaking my head to clear it, before I walked up to him.  Looking up, he smiled softly, and stood up to take my hand, raising it up to his lips. 

            "You have slept well I assume?" he inquired, his eyes examining my face carefully.

            "No," I said simply, moving away from him, to the window, where I could see a beautiful lawn of lush green underneath the sprawling blue sky. I was still angry at how he had locked me in that room, making me feel as though I were a prisoner.  

            "I'm sorry to hear that," he said, and out of the corner of my eyes, I could see him lower his head in defeat.  I don't know why, but I quickly turned back towards him, not wanting him to be sad.

            "But, I'm fine, really," I said, in the most convincing voice I could muster.  He must have known, because he smiled knowingly.

            "Please, you needn't pretend.  I understand that you are uncomfortable here," he said, his head raised again, taking the stance of one so confident in himself.  

            I tried not to feel for him, and instead interrupted his next words with a question.

            "Where are my friends?" I asked.

            "Your friends have journeyed ahead without you," he said simply, carefully seating himself in his chair again.  "Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable.  

            "No," I said angrily, with more force that I had meant, for he flinched under my harsh tone.  Softening my voice, I spoke again.  "How could you?" I asked.  I felt scared and alone again.  I didn't want to be alone with this man.

            He was there in seconds, his arms around me as I sobbed, and though I felt disgusted by him, I let myself lean into him, trying to stop the tears by pressing my face against his chest.  "I don't want to be here," I said brokenly, my words slightly muffled by his shirt.  He stroked my hair gently, trying to soothe me, his arm still secure around me, and somehow it made me feel better.  

            When it was over, I pushed at his chest until he loosened his hold, finally letting go of me completely.

            "You hate it here then?" he asked, the sadness in his eyes again.  I looked away.

            "Yes."

            He sighed again.  "We could be so good together," he murmured.

            I shook my head emphatically.  "No." I said, the conviction strong in my voice. 

            "We could never be together.  I want to save Spira, and you want to own it," I said with hate in my voice. 

            He stood staring at me for what seemed like an eternity.  Then he nodded slowly.  "Of course," he simply said.

            I was shocked.  He didn't even bother to argue with me.  And almost alarmingly, he didn't seem to be angry with me.              No longer afraid, and only feeling a little sorry for how mean I had been, I moved closer to him, gently placing my hand on his sleeve.  

            "I'm sorry," I said quietly, not willing to look at his face.  But I felt his hand cover mine, and I looked up to see him smiling at me.  But I felt uncomfortable again, when I saw something in his eyes, a sort of strange emotion.  That couldn't be love, could it?  Mentally I shook my head, because a man like him could never really love; how could he, when he had killed his own father?  

            "I want to go now," I said.  And he nodded, guiding me towards the door.  Again, I was shocked at how easily he was acquiescing to my demands.  Still, I felt that there was some catch, and I couldn't control the tremor that passed through my body.  

            "Don't be afraid of me, please," he whispered in my ear, and I shivered at his low voice and the feel of his breath on my ear.  Inwardly I cringed, hoping that I would soon be away from him, and be with my friends instead.

            Concentrating on hiding these fears, I didn't notice where we were headed until it was too late.

            "Wait!" I cried as he gently but determinately pushed me into the same room I had slept in.  "What are you doing! You promised!" I cried out as he looked at me with those sad blue eyes.  

            "I'm sorry," he said, turning so that he couldn't see my face. "But I can't let even you oppose me."  He shut the door before I could reach him. Crying uncontrollably, utterly alone and scared out of my wits, I fell to the floor, too exhausted and shocked to even fight.  

            "Please, yevon," I said through my tears, "help me."

TBC!

note: ( I know again!!)  But I hope that made sense?  If not, more will be explained in later chapters.  Other characters will be appearing of course.  Remember, this does not follow final fantasy 10 story line, I'm just using the core of it. :)

Please tell me if you like or hate. 

^_^


	2. Chapter 02

"Spira without You"

Chapter Two

Eliot

Standard Disclaimers Apply

THANKS TO everyone who reviewed: Jinsei, IngridSarah, Hanayaka-chan, and ^_^ !

I'm so glad that you liked it! I was worried, because it seems that so many people don't like Seymour, poor guy. L

Well here's another installment!!

NOTE:  I don't remember Bevelle exactly, so it won't be accurate.

            I was falling in a dark and dank bottomless hole, so rapidly that I could not scream out.  And then, suddenly I couldn't move, something was holding me down.  Struggling with a deep-seated frenzy, I found myself back in that hateful room.  Oh, yevon, I thought, please please let it all have been a dream.  

            But I felt something wet and cool touch my forehead, and expecting the worst, I saw a pair of blue eyes gazing down at me in concern.  There he was, Seymour, gently patting my face with that cool cloth, as I tried desperately to sit up.

            "Sh, don't move," he said in a soft soothing voice.  "I found you this morning on the floor burning up with a fever," he continued, with worry so evident in his voice and face, that I felt a little guilty, for having fallen asleep there.  

            But he took the blame on himself.

            "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you as I did yesterday," he said, before I could say a word. "Please, you will forgive me won't you?" he asked, almost pleading with me.  I felt uncomfortable with how he looked at me, as though what I would say next could break or make him.  I turned away, the fogginess beginning to overcome me again.

            "Please," I said faintly, growing alarmingly dizzy. "Don't touch me - just leave me alone."  I felt the words leave my lips in a haze, as my eyes closed heavily on their own.  I only remembered seeing his face, pained yet smiling sadly at me, as I fell into a deep sleep. 

            I woke with a start sitting upright, the blankets shedding away from me and pooling at my waist.  The sun streamed through the large bay windows, and I blinked, squinting slightly.  I knew where I was; I was still trapped in the horrible mansion with Seymour.  But my thoughts softened as I remembered how kind he had been to me the other day.  Sighing I turned to the side, ready to step out of the bed.

            What I saw shocked me at first, for Seymour had fallen asleep in chair right beside the bed.  For some reason, I wasn't very angry at this.  Instead, I watched him for some time, observing how peaceful he looked with his eyes closed, like a child almost.  Gingerly I reached out and touched the side of this face with my fingers, lightly running my fingers across his cheek. Right then, I felt a little sorry for him.  I still remembered what he had revealed some time before.  How his mother had died to become a fayth for him.  It saddened me that he would have to lose his mother in such a way. 

            When he stirred slightly, I snatched my hand away quickly, blushing at what I had been doing, even what I had been thinking. This was Seymour, after all, the man that wished to rule over Spira, no matter what the cost.  I looked up hesitantly, and found his eyes fixed on me.  Unable to control the heat that rose to my face again, I turned away, hoping that he wouldn't notice.

            But once again, I felt his fingers underneath my chin, turning me to face him.  Keeping my eyes focused on his chin, refusing to look him straight in the eye, I heard him chuckle. Alarmed, I found myself eye to eye with him again.

            With twinkling eyes, he said, "You have no idea how beautiful you look at this moment."  Uneasiness swept through me as he continued to gaze unwaveringly at me.  I pulled away from him again, and this time when I saw the hurt in his face, I felt horribly guilty.  I didn't know what was wrong with me, as I looked away unhappily.

            He touched my forehead gently, then nodded with satisfaction, rising from his chair.  

            "I'm glad to say that you are better now," he said, in slightly detached voice.  "After breakfast, we leave for Bevelle."

            "No," I said.  "I'm not hungry.  And I'm not going anywhere with you.  I'm going to find my friends." I knew I sounded childish, but I refused to be with him any longer.  Rising from the bed, I moved away from him with flourish, trying to act as brave as I could, though I still afraid of what he could do to me.  

            "My dear," he said, "I don't believe that you have any choice."

            I whirled around to face him, appalled by what seemed like a threat.      

            "Wh - what do you mean?" I asked him, my hand fluttering to my throat in apprehension. I had to be strong, or I'd never make it out of here alive.

            "It means just what it means," he said simply, exiting through the door again, shutting it behind him.  I didn't bother to move from where I stood.

            The silence during the entire ride to Bevelle created the most uncomfortable atmosphere.  I spent most of my time looking out the window at the scenery that rushed by.  Whenever I chanced to look in his direction, I quickly looked away, because he was always gazing at me with a strange look in his eyes.  I could not help but shudder each time and wish that somehow I could make it out of this and be with my friends again.

            "We're here," he said suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.  I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I had missed seeing the large city loom before my eyes.  Startled, I turned to find Seymour holding out his hand for me.  Dulled by exhaustion and that ever-present fear, I gave my own to him without thinking and he helped me out of the carriage.

            I was surprised at the reception that we received upon arriving at the front gates to the beautiful place. Rows and rows of monks stood at attention as we made our way up to the entrance, saluting Seymour, who merely kept his eyes focused before him.  Every now and then, he turned to glance at me, smiling at my obvious awe.

            But this was wrong, I thought.  Didn't these monks know that Seymour was not what he seemed?  There were the rumors of course, but those were just rumors, not necessarily true.  But was I the only one who knew of Seymour's real plans?  I wanted to tear myself from Seymour's grasp, and scream at the top of my lungs that Seymour was crazy, that he was really planning on ruling Spira for himself. 

            I think he could sense a little of what I was feeling, because he pulled me closer to him, giving me a look that told me not to try anything.  I swallowed with difficulty, bowing my head, so that he could not see the fear in my eyes.  

            "Ah, it's good to see you Seymour, and you lady summoner," a familiar voice called from the entrance.  My head shot up, my eyes widening as I saw Maester Mika smiling down at the both of us.  I managed to tear myself away from Seymour, and ran up the last few remaining steps to clutch Maester Mika's hand in my own.

            "Oh Maester!" I cried, finally seeing someone that I could trust.  "Please, you must let me leave here at once and find my friends! My pilgrimage awaits me, sir," I said bowing as was customary to show my respect.  

              He chuckled warmly, gently placing his hand on my head, as though he were blessing me.  

            "Your pilgrimage can wait, child," he said kindly, his eyes sparkling warmly. "There are more important matters at hand," he said.  He paused, and then looked at the two of us. "You two make a wonderful couple."

            I gasped, both angry and shocked.  Before I could say anything to Maester Mika, Seymour grasped my wrist roughly and jerked me back towards him, so that I stumbled against him.  Immediately his arms came to wrap around my waist, preventing me from moving away.  

            "Thank you," Seymour said, looking down at me with a smirk.  "I hope the arrangements have been made?  We hope to wed as soon as we can."  My back to Maester Mika, I stared widely at Seymour who gazed back at me with a strange feral look in his eyes.  I could feel the anger and fear bubble up inside of me, as I clenched my teeth, balling my hands into fists.  

            "No," I said, low and deep, fire in my eyes. 

            I tried to turn around to talk to Maester Mika, hoping that he would help me out of the situation.  Surely he could see that I did not want any part of this marriage?  But Seymour held me fast to him, and I couldn't move a muscle.

            "My dear, I believe you are tired.  I'll have someone ready a room for you."  With that Maester Mika called a servant over to help me into the building.  Shocked, I refused to move.  How could he not see that I was uncomfortable, and that I hated to be with Seymour?

            "Maester Mika, please," I pleaded.  "I need to talk to you."  

            He waved me away indifferently with his hand.  "Not now, my dear.  I need to speak to Seymour alone at this moment."  He turned around then, smiling slightly.  "Tomorrow will be a big day for you after all.  Your father would have been proud," he added.

            I wanted to scream in frustration.  Everything was happening too fast, and no one would listen to me.  Numbed into submission, I felt all I could do at the moment was follow the servant to my room.  There I would sort out the recent events, and try to find a way to speak to Maester Mika alone, without Seymour hovering around me.  My eyes clouded slightly as I thought that tomorrow just might be my wedding day. 

            I kept myself locked up in the room, refusing to see anyone or talk to anyone.  I didn't want to run into Seymour again.  I vowed that I would find a way to get to Maester Mika alone, but the only way I would feel safe would be to move under the cover of darkness.

            As soon as the sunset and night fell, I moved my weary body to the door, opening the door quietly and peeking out.  There was no one in the hallway, so I very slowly tip toed out.  Checking every corridor, I made it to main room, when I heard a loud agonizing cry from outside.  My curiosity got the better of me, and I snuck up to the door leading out into the gardens.  What I saw made me gasp and cringe in horror.  

            Tied down by great chains was a gigantic horrendous creature, wrapped in bandages tinged with the redness of blood.  Pressing my hand to my mouth, I moved towards it, feeling pity for the pain it must surely feel.  It stared at me, with one weary eye, and I swore that I could see the pain and agony swirling in those orbs.  It writhed and pulled at its chains, making terrible sounds and screams, and I did all I could not to cry out for it. 

            When a hand suddenly gripped my shoulder, whirling me around, I did scream, no longer able to hide my own horror and pain.  Seymour gripped me in his two powerful hands, the anger burning in his eyes as he shook me roughly. 

            "What are you doing here!" he shouted.  I shied away from him, tears pooling in my eyes.  I blinked rapidly, trying to calm myself, but I could barely hold up as I broke into tears.

            "What is that thing," I choked out, forgetting that I was talking to the very man that I had been doing my best to avoid. 

            "That is my aeon, Anima," he said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders in indifference. He let go of me, and then dismissed it, watching it as it disappeared from where it had come.        

            "But why," I began again, scared again quite out of my wits by the sudden appearance of both Seymour and that – that terrible creature. "Why is it like that?"  He held me close, stroking me again, trying to calm me down.

            "I'm training it," he said simply.  

            "No, you're hurting it!" I shouted back, angry at his apathy.  I would never treat my aeons in that way, I thought to myself.

            "What does it matter to me."  I could hear the venom in his voice, and I stopped long enough to stare into his face, confusion sweeping through me again.  He was a mystery to me, difficult to decipher, because he could move from one emotion to another so quickly.

            "My mother died so that I could summon this aeon," he spat out the words, pausing to glare at where the aeon had stood.  But he then he stopped, unwilling, or perhaps unable to go on.  Again, there were tears in his eyes, as I stared back at him, disbelieving.  Because it had grown silent, I gently touched his sleeve.

            "Seymour?" I asked hesitantly. 

            He shook his head, as though breaking himself of his thoughts, and he turned to focus on me again.  Smiling, he touched my face where the tears had been.  

            "You shouldn't be out here.  It's cold, and you need your rest.  Tomorrow is after all a big day."  He moved away from me and began to head back into the palace.

            "Seymour!" I called to him.  He paused and turned around.  Whatever the consequences, I had to make it known.

            "I won't marry you," I said, my voice hard with determination

            He smiled again, a strange knowing smile, somehow sad and regretful, but he didn't say another word as he walked away.

TBC

Hope you liked it!!  J


	3. Chapter 03

"Spira without You"

Chapter Three

Eliot

Standard Disclaimers Apply

THANKS AGAIN! To disgurl, Hope, and Jedi Vegeta18 for reviewing the last chapter!!  

         I'm so happy you enjoyed the story!!

                                    ^_^

The sun was shining brightly, taunting me for what was to come, for I felt black and dreary inside. I stood by the door to the main hall, desperately pulling at the white dress that the servants had fitted me in.  Though it was actually very beautiful, made of the finest material, I hated what it meant.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Seymour coming towards me, and I turned to face him, the anger evident in my eyes.

            "I won't marry you, Seymour.  When the time comes, I will refuse to say the words that will bind me to you."  Noticing how handsome he looked in his wedding attire, I felt a blush creep into my cheeks, and I concentrated on what I was saying instead.   

            He sighed, and I noticed how tired he looked.  

            "When the time comes, you will say yes to me," he said, speaking as though I had no choice.  Searching his pockets, he pulled out a sphere as if the proof somehow lay in it.  With unease and unwillingness, he pressed the sphere into my hand and looked at me, his brows furrowing in worry and guilt.  I took a deep breath, not sure what to expect.  

            Trembling, I glanced at him furtively as the sphere glowed and immediately began to play.

            "As of now, you shall be deemed as traitors," a familiar voice said.  "To fulfill your sentence, you shall all be condemned to the dungeon, where you shall live out your punishment until your deaths." The finality of his voice rang out loud and clear, like a church bell tolling for the dead.  But it was hard for me to make out the figures, for they stood in the shadows of some sort of dimly lit room.

            "No! You won't get away with this!" 

            Tidus! I gasped when I heard his distinct voice.  My head snapped up to see how Seymour was taking all of this.  He wasn't looking at me, refusing to look at me, in fact.

            The next scene, I could see my friends being thrown into a strange watery maze, the guards laughing all the while as they struggled.  The speaker who had sentenced my friends spoke again.

"You will find that there are fiends throughout the water ways.  Therefore, the best of luck to you all," the speaker said with a malicious chuckle, as he moved into the light.  It was Maester Mika! 

            "Seymour!" I cried, frantically gripping his arm, dropping the sphere as though it burned me. "What's going on! Why are they being punished for being traitors?  They've done no such thing! They've been helping me on my pilgrimage, following the teachings of Yevon, as they have always done! Why? Why did Maester Mika do this to them?"

            He didn't answer right away, gazing into the distance, as though he were trying to think of the right thing to say.  Nothing he could say could make me feel any better.

            Finally he said, "That was about a week ago, shortly after your visit to my mansion.  They are probably still alive down there, though the chance of surviving for so long is slim.  If you marry me," he began heavily.  I already knew what he was saying and I covered my ears, and moved away from him.

            "No!" I shouted angrily. He pulled me against him, trying to keep my flailing arms to my sides as I tried to swing out at him.  "How dare you! You know that they aren't traitors and you did this! I hate you!"  I couldn't hold back my screams or my choked sobs as I continued to strike at his chest.  

            When I felt someone pull me from behind, I stopped instantly, exhausted and broken.  

            "Now, my dear, that's no way to treat a Maester, is it?"  That voice, that voice that had always seemed so friendly and warm.  But I knew better now; that voice masked the evil man that lay beneath the gentle exterior.

            "Maester Mika," I breathed out, almost wishing to yevon that he would deny everything.  "Why?  Why are you doing this?"  Everything began to fall into place.  He and all the monks of Yevon around us knew what Seymour really was, and they had been helping him all along.  I was alone here, with no one on my side, with no one to help me.  It was frightening to know this, to feel so helpless.

            "Child, your marriage to young Maester Seymour here would help unite the people of Spira together.  It would -"

            "It would divert them while Seymour took over, right?" I finally spat out, trying to calm my ragged nerves.  I tried to keep my breathing even, afraid that I would lose consciousness, as already the hall began to swirl around me.  "I'm sure this works out for you as well, since you'll probably become his right hand man?"  

            Maester Mika did not even flinch, but instead merely raised an eyebrow disdainfully.  "I wouldn't have put it that way.  We could do a world more for Spira than anyone else could. Think of the possibilities. More importantly think of your duties as Lady Summoner.  Spira does not know what is best for itself."  

            "And you do?" I asked, belligerently, my eyes flashing and narrowing.  

            He didn't answer, but instead looked down at the sphere, which had fallen at my feet, motionless on the ground. Reaching down and picking it up, he held it in front of me.  "I don't believe that you really have a choice in the matter anyway." 

            He didn't give me a chance to respond as he moved away then, calling the monks to prepare for the wedding ceremony.  And it hurt to know that he was right, that I had to go along with this plan.  Turning back to Seymour I glared at him.

            "Is this what you wanted?" I hissed at him.  "Is this what you thought would be a wedding present to me?"  Although I had hoped to keep my head up high and be strong, I ended up breaking into tears, feeling myself fall to the floor, letting the dizziness come over me.

            Seymour caught me in his strong arms before I could hit the floor.  I began to laugh half hysterically, tears still pouring down my cheeks, at the situation I had been put into.  Seymour looked at me worriedly, concern sharply etched in his face. But it was all a lie! What did he care, after all, he only wanted power.  As I struggled in his arms, my strength gave out and in the end I slumped into his embrace, burying my face into the collar of his shirt.

            "It's okay, Yuna.  Right after the wedding, we'll search for your friends," he whispered gently.  He petted me in such a loving manner, holding me close, that I scoffed mentally at how deceitful he was.  How could everything have turned out like this?  Tired, I closed my eyes, trying to calm my breath.  In the end, I didn't care so much about myself as I did about my friends who were currently wandering about the watery maze beneath the palace.  I had to find them, and I vowed I would as soon as the wedding was through.  I shuddered again at that thought.   

            And once again, I think that Seymour somehow knew, because he pulled me up, carefully drying my tears, and helped me straighten my hair and dress, his hands lingering for the slightest second on my face.  I stared at the arm he held out, and I took it, knowing that I had no choice now, though I decided deep inside that later I would somehow right all the wrongs. 

TBC


	4. Chatper 04

Spira Without You

Chapter 4

By Eliot

Standard Disclaimers Apply

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            Walking down the aisle, flanked by guards all around, I felt like a prisoner being transported from one cell to another.  I tried not to think about it, but when I saw Seymour waiting for me at the altar, I cringed inwardly, wishing that somehow this was all just a horrible dream.

            But he took my hand in his, smiling down at me, and I looked away, hating how he had to look at me, disgusted with that strange emotion in his eyes again.  I closed my eyes, not caring if he would be angry with me, angry at how I pulled my hand away from his, trying to ignore his presence. 

            When it was time to say my part, I spoke as coldly and detachedly as possible.  At that point I could only think of that maze, praying that the ceremony would be over quickly, so that I could begin my search for my friends.  But at the same time, the ceremony was over too soon, and I felt him gripping my upper arms, squeezing slightly, a lazy smile lighting his face, his eyes half lowered and hooded.  He seemed to loom over me, and I tried to still the rapid beating of my heart, shrinking back at the large shadow he threw over me. Closing my eyes, I felt his lips press against mine, as he took me in his arms, this kiss far less chaste than the one he had given me before.  

            And soon, I began to hate the way I reacted to his kiss, how my lips parted slightly, how my entire body relaxed into his.  Afterwards I felt a little faint, and I told myself that I was only glad that it was over, though I felt a blush rise into my cheeks.  I knew it must have been because I was so thoroughly exhausted.

            "I'll make you happy," I heard him whisper, his breath tickling my ear and sending shivers down my spine.  I refused to look at him knowing his words were lies, and instead I stared at the collar of his shirt.  

            I think the realization hit me as we walked down the aisle, my hand on his arm as he guided me.  With the sound of the monks clapping the in the background, I felt overwhelmed by what I had just done, and the last thing I remembered was the look on Seymour's face as I fell.      

            "You are forgetting the business at hand, Seymour," I heard a voice say.  Groggily, I opened my eyes, touching my forehead gently with the back of my hand.  Sitting up slowly, still in my wedding dress, I noticed that someone had brought me back to the guest room and had laid me out on the soft bed, probably the same someone who now stood on the other side of the closed door.  I could tell that they were arguing, though the words were slightly muffled.  

"I agreed to this wedding because I believed that Lady Yuna would be of great use to use in summoning the final aeon. But I see now that I made a mistake in allowing this wedding.  You have grown too obsessed with her, Seymour!  And this obsession may get in the way of our plan!  I'll not have it!"

            "Nonsense!" I recognized that languid velvety voice. 

            "I would not think to ruin the plans in any way.  You should know that, Mika.  She is nothing to me, after all."  

            It was silly, but his words hurt me.  I knew he was not to be trusted, for he had been lying all along to me. Angrily I sprang up from the bed, throwing the covers aside roughly, and I walked to the door with determination, to yank it open in their surprised faces and march out of there. 

            But what I heard next froze me in my tracks.

            "Then if she is nothing to you at all -- kill her."

            The words were said in such a simple tone, as though the act could be just as simple, and I struggled to keep quiet, to not cry out. I stumbled backwards away from the door, afraid that the men on the other side would somehow know that I had heard and would kill me at once.

            A soft velvety chuckle drifted towards me through the door.  "Mika," I heard Seymour say, "I'm sure there is no need for it to come to that?  I think that --"

            "Ah, so then I am right," Maester Mika cut in.  "You _have_ become obsessed with that girl!  It would be in our best interest to do away with her whether you deny it or not.   After all, we can easily find another..."

            There was a slight pause in the conversation in which I could only hear the beating of my own heart.

            "Very well," Seymour said at last, his tone heavy and tired.  "It shall be done."  I saw the knob on the door turning slowly, but I was frozen to the spot, afraid now of what would happen to me. 

            "Oh, Mika," I heard Seymour say, his voice now more louder since he stood by the door.  There was another pause.  "I do have one request: I wish to do this alone.  Don't worry," he added hastily, and I knew that Maester Mika must have seemed doubtful.  "She shall be gone by tonight."

            Maester Mika laughed.  "Of course.  After all, you killed your own father, didn't you?"  The laughter grew louder and then began to ebb away, along with the sound of retreating footsteps.

            The door didn't open right away, though I knew that Seymour stood on the other side.  It was some time before the doors creaked softly open, and Seymour slowly stepped in, shutting the door carefully behind him.  He kept his face hidden from me in the shadows of the room, making him seem all the more threatening and ominous to me.  I watched as his eyes fell on the bed, and seeing that no one was there, he immediately started.  But I was not so hidden from him that he could not see me right away.

            I only stood there staring at him, my eyes large and unbelieving, as he stared back at me, his expression undecipherable.  Almost, I would rather have him look at me with those strangely haunting eyes, eyes that burned into my soul, than the eyes of the dead he now possessed, eyes indifferent to the many murders he might have committed. His own father, after all, I thought to myself.  I was too numb from what I had learned to be afraid at this point. The silence grew unbearable, and I opened my mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

            Only when he began to step towards me, did I move suddenly, afraid of his murderous intent.  Unfortunately, he was by my side at once, gripping me in his powerful arms. 

            "Stop it," he commanded at once, his tone both angry and harsh.  I didn't understand, but when I looked up at him, his eyes were lined with exhaustion and fear; in fact, from the redness in his eyes, I swore that he might have been silently weeping. 

            In his arms, he held me carefully, gazing at me intently, his eyes lingering on my face and he reached up with a gentle finger to touch my cheek.  I shivered at how he could be so nonchalant in his murder, and I turned my face from his.  Sighing, I felt his arms loosen until I was free to move away.  My heart now beat furiously, the blood racing through my veins at maddening speed.  

            "Leave," he said suddenly, and my head snapped up at his words.  Confused beyond belief I stared at him, but he had his back to me.  

            "What?" My voice was failing me, and the words came out weakly, softly.

            "I said leave.  Get out."  Such simple words, succinct, and yet they confused me.

            But my inaction seemed to anger Seymour further, because he suddenly turned to me, grabbing me roughly by the arm and yanking me towards him.  Violent emotions seemed to swirl in his light blue eyes, the muscle in his cheek clenching.  

            I couldn't help but cower from him, but he pulled me behind him as he began to walk out of the room.  

            "Leave tonight," he whispered harshly into my ear.  "Or you die.  Do you understand?"  

            "But – but my friends," I said hesitantly.  "I can't leave without them!"

            By this time, he had led me out of the palace.  I hadn't realized how dark it had grown, how the moon now hung in the sky casting a strange glow around us.  I shivered in the cold, afraid of what was going to happen now.  But Seymour only shrugged out of his wedding coat, and placed it gently around my shoulders

            Before I knew what was happening, I was in his arms again, his lips pressed against mine roughly.  "Your friends are waiting for you at the Calm Lands," he said shortly.  The soft look on his face grew firm as he pushed me away from him, toward the direction of the path that would lead me out of Bevelle.

            "Leave," he repeated again.  When I didn't move, he said harshly, shoving me forward.  "Go now!"

            Automatically, my feet moved, and I all but ran past the gates of Bevelle and onto the dirt path.

To be continued…


End file.
